He’s right, I’m irritable – angry and short-tempered and annoyed with the thankless repetition of day-to-day life. The reality – that this life is actually a pretty good one – slips from my grasp like ashen smoke, feeding my misery.

I do wish that I could bottle this moment. This place in time of you belly down on a swing with laughing eyes and having nowhere you have to be but the backyard. 

“Don’t you ever turn your back on the ocean. There are some things in life we don’t turn our backs on.”

Right now, I'm in the sweet spot. My kids are old enough to hang up their own darn beach towels, but still close enough to the dock where they can hear me bellowing “that's too far” through my air horn.

My funner half turned to me and said, “This is what they will remember about you. Barking orders.”

I used to push a double stroller around Chicago. Now my sons are matching me stride for stride, navigating for me and telling me when I’ve made a wrong turn.

 I'm also motivated to graduate before my own son graduates from high school, giving me a six year window to get my degree in hand.

 I want many things for my children. I want them to be happy. I want them to enjoy life. I want them to take the risks that I may not have taken.

I always envisioned my preschooler attending my alma mater—until I took him to visit.

But sometimes when I watch her I want to slam on the brakes even now. “Take that corner slow, my little love… don't slip, there could be ice… are you signaling and giving yourself enough time to stop?”